


Forgotten Scenes from Macbeth

by twistedchick



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: Canon levels of violence, Gen, Women's view of Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 18:50:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedchick/pseuds/twistedchick
Summary: This is Lady Macbeth's story, the one that is barely seen through Shakespeare's play, the story men don't know.





	Forgotten Scenes from Macbeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Small_Hobbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/gifts).



Prologue:  
A tower room, Macbeth's castle. Lady Macbeth and Ailsa, her companion, are sewing.

Lady Macbeth: You recall, Ailsa, he wasn't my first choice  
For husband. My first died of fever, left me with babe  
In arms, another hanging on my skirt; all died.  
Fever was fierce among us that cursed year.  
'Twas my mother's husband chose him. 

Ailsa: You mean our most noble lord, King Duncan?  


Lady Macbeth: Aye. My mother, Aelflaed, was his lady,  
Though not the only one to share his bed,  
Not even now. He's a lusty man still, I hear;  
Watch out when he visits. But I'm not his child.  
My kind and lovely mum had me before  
She came to him, with Donbar, who'd died in war.

(Lady Macbeth goes to the window)

The battle's far from sight today. See you aught?

Ailsa: No, my lady.  
But the women gather soon today to choose  
Who shall win the day upon the field.

Lady Macbeth: Go you then, and I'll bide here to make  
Whate'ere preparations may be needed: physic  
For the wounded, shelter and food for all  
Who enter our gates.

Ailsa: Be you safe here, my sweet lady. I go.

 

Act I, scene 3A  
The Great Room, Macbeth's castle. Servants enter and exit randomly, carrying food, bedding and supplies , bowing, nodding or curtsying to Lady Macbeth as they pass her 

Lady Macbeth: I do believe we have enough to serve  
Regardless of the men who may arrive.

(Ailsa enters)

Ailsa! What word about the battle? Who won?

Ailsa: Our laird, Macbeth has taken the field for Duncan  
And met our sisters on the heath thereafter.  
They prophesied him honors, but honored the more  
Thane Banquo, standing by him. My lord took it  
Not so well, I ken. But who can gainsay  
Our sisters when the gods do move their words?

Lady Macbeth: I wish I could have been there, too, this day,  
To feel the power of gods from this old land  
Speak their words, and do their work. I pity men  
Who know not this strength hid within themselves  
And follow the White Christ, not the gods we know.

Ailsa: Aye. The men come not today; a nearer laird  
Offers them succour after their efforts.

(Lady Macbeth claps her hands; the parade of servants stops.)

Lady Macbeth: All of you return to your own work now, and thanks.  
We need not face a crowd of wounded men.  
But hold yourselves ready for their return  
With guests, as soon they will. If aught we lack  
In drink or food – please put it in order now.

(Servants nod and curtsy and go about their business.) 

 

Scene 4A

Lady Macbeth in her rooms with Ailsa and with Senga, a healer.

Lady Macbeth: So, that's the sum of prophecy now, Aisla?  
To give my lord the crown in time to come?

Ailsa: Aye, my lady. But none are to come after.

Lady Macbeth: At times the words of gods are hard to know.  
We interpret what we guess. I am with child  
As you well know; these words chill me to the bone.  
I'll take good care, with your kind help to aid me,  
To make certain this babe will see the day.

Senga: We'll take all care for you, my lady. I'll brew  
My best herb possets to keep you well and strong.

Lady Macbeth: My deepest thanks go to you both, who came  
With me when I arrived here to be wed.  
'Twas years ago, and yet you are steadfast.

(Ailsa and Senga curtsy and leave) 

'Tis time for me to keep the vow I made,  
Avenge my mother's death on him who killed her  
The gods have said it's time. Oh, strength, my heart  
Let me uphold her honour and my lineage.

Scene 5A

Lady Macbeth's chambers. Lady Macbeth is going through a carved wood trunk.

Lady Macbeth: My husband is too dearly sweet to wield  
A blade to benefit his dark desires.  
I'll have to press him more, or do the deed  
Myself, in dress red-dyed to hide the blood.  
But blood is not the enemy of women  
Who see their own each turning of the moon.  
Where did I put that dress? And that keen knife  
My mother gave to me when woman I became?  
Ahh. Narrow and sharp, to do a woman's work,  
For any task its steel is suited to. And a gown  
In crimson, fair enough for any event.

Act II scene 3A  
Lady Macbeth's chambers  
Lady Macbeth, is seated by the window; Senga attends her.

Lady Macbeth: I'm well, Senga, I'm well enough. Leave off!  
I need no tonic. Go you, rather, and find  
Women to lay out the king for burial  
And those to wipe away the blood that's spilt.

(Senga leaves.)

Lady Macbeth: At last he's gone, my mother's honour avenged.  
Never again will he force a woman to bear  
His lust, and then his child, against her will,  
And die for it all in the end. Men thought him kind  
And gentle, but what of it? They were safe.  
He'd never force a man to do a thing.  
But now 'tis done. I'll play the part they see,  
An innocent in horror at the deed. Oh child  
Within my womb, be glad you're safe. King Duncan  
Shall ne'er come near thee, not for all thy life.  
What said my sisters to my lord Macbeth?  
That he'd be Thane of Cawdor? How odd.  
That's not my whim nor will to see it done.  
I wish that I had been at that same meeting  
To hear in my own ears the words of the gods.  
But they are skilled at hearing what is said  
By those who are not seen whene'er they speak.  
So I must trust their vision and their sense  
Of truth as they walk through the mists of time.

 

Act II scene 2.A

A hallway in the castle. Lady Macbeth is pacing.

Lady Macbeth: My lord suspects that Banquo knows his secret  
That he did cause the murder of the king.  
And so, our Banquo, our good friend, must die.  
This death is not my choice; I think him far  
From proving our involvement with old Duncan.  
The evidence is gone, the blameless fled,  
Their flight the excuse that covers all the blame.  
Oh, suspicion poisons all for us; it brings  
Friends to death to hide the death of kings.

Act III, Scene 4A

Lady Macbeth and Senga in a hallway

Senga: I hear that His Majesty's ill, ma'am, talking to air  
Afraid of that which only he can see.  
A potion I can make should clear his sight  
And help him to his senses once again.

Lady Macbeth: Do so, please, and bring the drink to me  
If he sees you he'll think himself far worse  
Than he is now. I'll put it in his glass  
That stands by the bed to remedy thirst  
But I'll be sure he drinks it first. Go, now.

Senga: I go. God heal His Majesty, and keep Your Grace.

(Senga exits.)

Lady Macbeth: Such a potion will do him no harm. Aaaah!  
The child within me moves and kicks again  
'Tis said that's the sign of a lusty babe  
But oh, that kicking makes my liver sore.

(Enter Macbeth)

Macbeth: How now, my love? Art ill with carrying  
Our heir through this long day?

Lady Macbeth: I could ask the same of you, good sir.  
What cries  
You made, disrupting the feast , so all  
Our guests have left, confused and full  
Of wonder at the strangeness of your speech.

Macbeth: Before the feast I'd word of Banquo's death.  
Then to it came his ghost, sat in my chair  
Bloody and silent, daring me to sit  
In spite of him, and I found I could not.

Lady Macbeth: Perhaps some time in rest would help your mind  
I'll come in presently.

Macbeth: I am strangely tired.  
It is so much a muddle in my mind.

(Exit Macbeth)

(Enter Senga)

Senga: Here's the potion, my lady: lemon balm,  
Valerian, a touch of mint, and other herbs  
To ease the head and soothe the restless sleep.

Lady Macbeth: Thou art a jewel of herb women, Senga.  
My deepest thanks to thee.

(Lady Macbeth pours the potion into a tankard from a table nearby.)

Senga: Also, I'm sent to tell you quietly:  
The women meet tonight upon the moor  
Hecate has called us all to come to her.

Lady Macbeth: I cannot leave my lord in such a state  
As he has been this day. If thou could go  
In my place, as 'twere, so I might learn  
Whate'er is said, whate'er is done tonight?

Senga: I'll tell it to you straightaway  
Tonight, if you're awake, the morn if not.  
But the child pains you again? I'll make  
A soothing draught to ease and not to harm  
Before I go abroad.

Lady Macbeth: My thanks to thee are doubled. 

(She takes the tankard into the bedroom.)

Act IV scene 3

Lady Macbeth's chambers. Ailsa, Senga and a serving woman are near the door.

Lady Macbeth screams

Ailsa: Fetch the midwife! The child comes too soon.  
T'is yet a pair of months till he should come.  
Senga, can you help her?

Senga: I'm no midwife,  
But I'll do what I can to help her rest.  
Do you bring water for potions, and cloths  
And Auld Ina, who's helped to birth fourscore  
Including the lord himself.

(Serving woman and Senga leave)

Lady Macbeth : (groans). Men are no use. 

Ailsa: My lord woke yesterday and left for war,  
Or whatever men do with swords and pikes. 

(Ailsa goes to Lady Macbeth)  
I am here, my brave lady, as is Senga  
And Auld Ina shall come. 

Lady Macbeth: 'Tis ill, tis ill. I felt the babe moving  
Then stilled, as if t'would never move again.

Ailsa: The babe sleeps, my lady, naught else.

Lady Macbeth: Then whence this pain? The babe has slept  
And waked and slept for months without the pain  
That racks me now. (moans)

Enter Senga

Senga: Here, my lady, drink this tisane; sip it slowly  
It should ease the pain and help you rest, 

Lady Macbeth: Take it away, it will not help me. Where is Ina?

(Enter Auld Ina)

Auld Ina: Let's see how thou art, my lamb. Ahh, a bit of pain  
How long since the babe has moved?

Lady Macbeth: Two days, since my husband went off to war.

(Auld Ina draws Senga aside)

Auld Ina: I fear the child is dead; we must now bring  
It forth, to save her life. Senga, do you brew  
Pennyroyal and other herbs that bring  
Contractions that she needs must endure .

Senga: How much?

Auld Ina: One cup at first, more if there's need. Also  
lie What herbs you trust to ease her pain as well.

(Senga goes)

(The lights darken to indicate the passage of time)

(Lady Macbeth screams)

(Silence.)

(The lights come up again. Lady Macbeth, exhausted, lies on pillows to raise her head. Auld Ina holds a child in her arms)

Lady Macbeth: Let me hold my child a while now.

Auld Ina: My lamb, the child won't live. 

Lady Macbeth: It lives this while, and while it does t'is mine,  
Give me space and leave me be for now.

(Auld Ina gives her the child.)  


(Senga, Ailsa and Auld Ina leave, but watch from beyond the open door)

Unfortunate wee babe, struggling to breathe  
I'd give my breath to keep you in this world  
But you are bound to leave me far too soon.  
Know that you're loved, my little one, my last  
For no more children will I bear. I hear  
Thy faintest cry and feel thy fading heart  


(The child dies.) 

Oh! T'is still, and nothing I can do will help  
Thee return to this hard life. None is  
Thy fault, my babe, but mine alone. Thy life  
Is forfeit now, the payment for my vengeance.  
To honor my lost mother I have lost my child.  
And all is blood, blood, blood, on thee and me  
Thou precedes me but a little to eternity.  
Await me there, my sweetest youngest child,  
And there I'll mother thee in all eternity.

(Lady Macbeth falls back on the pillow; the bed coverings have become red.. The women rush back in.)

 

Act V, Scene _1A__

Ailsa, Senga and women enter, bearing the body of Lady Macbeth. They lay her on a bier at center stage; she is covered by a sheet, only her face showing.

Ailsa My sweet lady's gone, to follow her bairn  
Into the lands beyond. The king is gone  
To battlefield, and whether he'll return  
Is in the lap of the gods. Let us go now  
Prepare our queen for her gravebed, and sing  
The songs that only women know, over  
One of our own. No more will she dance  
Upon the heath with us at Midsummer fires  
Nor cast the charms to keep the dead at rest  
When Samhain brings the worlds together.

The ladies gather around the bier, strewing the body with flowers as they walk and chant.

All chant: Farewell to you, true queen of the widespread land!  
Farewell to you, sister of the shadows of the moor!  
Farewell, to you! May you dwell in the light  
Of the bright Land of Summer until your return.  
Sleep now, great one, in the calm of the evening sea  
Sleep now, great one, in the morning of the mountains  
Sleep now, and arise without fear, with thy babe  
In the bright land of Summer, until your return. 

(The lights flare suddenly and then cut to dark.)

END

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for this not being in proper Shakespearean style in terms of paragraphing, indent, etc. This is the best I could do with this interface.
> 
> Many thinks to batdina and coyotegoth for betareading.


End file.
